True Colors

by Amy Knupp

“You lie,” she said, smiling in spite of herself.

  “Can I come in?” He advanced a step, and she wasn’t sure which would be a dumber move—standing her ground and letting him get way closer or backing up and allowing him into her apartment.

  Since she’d already made the first move toward recklessness, she stepped back and invited him inside. If she stopped lying to herself, she’d admit there had never been any kind of choice with Drake.

  “What’s up?” she asked, managing to sound casual as he came inside. “You seem…way energetic.”

  It was his eyes and his smile. They didn’t look jet-lagged, but then why would someone like Drake North be bothered by a little thing like jet lag? The better to reel in weak souls like her, she supposed as she closed the door.

  “I did it,” he said, his tone dipping and his gaze becoming somehow intimate, as if he was telling her a secret.

  She was drawing a blank though, fuzzy-brained as she was. “What did you do?”

  “I met with my brothers. Accepted the job. You’re looking at the new director of the North Brothers Sports Home Fitness Division.” He stood a little straighter, and for a moment, she saw the little-boy-ness in him again, the irresistible, sometimes unsure real Drake, looking to her for approval.

  She didn’t make him wait, knowing exactly how much of a monster-sized step that one action was. Throwing her arms around him, she said, “Congratulations, Drake. I’m so happy for you.” She meant every word.

  And promptly forgot every bit of it when, as soon as she lowered her arms, he cupped her face with both hands and engulfed her in an overzealous, exhilarated kiss. He picked her up, his hands on the backs of her upper thighs, and pressed her into the door, kissing her like she’d never been kissed before. She reveled in it, the scent of him filling her nose, his rough, masculine chin abrading her skin in a delicious way, his hard body pressing into her.

  When he finally ended the kiss, Mackenzie caught her breath and laughed. “That was…inspired.”

  He laughed too as he let her slide down his body until her feet hit the floor. “I feel like celebrating, and I wanted to celebrate with you.” There was a hint of a question in his tone, as if he knew full well they weren’t supposed to be close like this now that they were home.

  At that moment, she couldn’t be bothered with doing the smart thing. One, because Drake deserved to celebrate and bask in his moment. She knew what he’d done had been a long time coming and it hadn’t been easy for him. Two, now that she’d had his body pressing into her, reigniting their combustible connection, there was no way she was letting him walk out that door. “Then let’s celebrate,” she said. Naked. Please.

  In a sudden move, he wrapped his arms tightly around her again and lifted her, spun around, letting out a victory howl and then a laugh as they knocked into the kitchen counter that jutted out. When he set her down again, he gripped her waist, his fingers hitting her bare skin under her tee, then kissed the top of her head, his hips pinning her against the cabinet.

  “I was thinking a fancy dinner, maybe out for drinks afterward…” he said, peering down at her with those arresting sky-blue eyes that seemed to have a hypnotic effect on her.

  “I was thinking…” she started, hesitating, then giving a mental shrug and plowing forward, “sex. Maybe a frozen pizza afterward…”

  “I’ve always liked the way you think.” His voice had become rougher, his grin playful, and he lowered his mouth to hers, capturing her lips this time in a slow, sensual kiss full of promise.

  He didn’t break the lip-lock for some time, until he was easing her T-shirt up and was about to lift it over her head. He stopped abruptly. “My soon-to-be sister-in-law is on your TV. This feels awkward.”

  Mackenzie laughed and straightened as he loosened his hold on her. “Come on,” she said. She took his hand and pulled him after her, paused at the coffee table to click the TV off, and led him up the stairs toward her loft-style bedroom. “Kitchen sex has its place, but tonight we’re celebrating. That calls for a bed. I’m thinking slow, thorough, something to savor. It could take a while.”

  “Lucky thing, I have multiple whiles to take.” His eyes sparked with lust as he said it.

  They were barely up the last step when he turned her toward him, picked up where he’d left off with her shirt by pulling it over her head and flinging it to the floor, then skimmed his fingers down her sides to peel her leggings and underwear off, getting her naked in mere seconds. She grabbed on to the tall chest of drawers to keep from losing her balance and clumsily tumbling over.

  In the low light from the living room that filtered up to them, his gaze roved over her appreciatively but not patiently, the raw desire in his eyes making her skin feel like it was on fire and only his touch could cool the burn.

  In the next second, he reached back between his shoulders and whipped his own shirt off, kicked his shoes away, then unfastened and unzipped his pants and stripped them down his legs, along with his socks and his boxer briefs. He straightened and faced her in all his masculine glory, and they closed the space between them at the same time, their heated skin pressing together, lips colliding, bodies stumbling awkwardly as he half guided her, half lifted her the short distance to the bed and tumbled onto it after her.

  Mackenzie pulled him to her, desperate for him to fill the ache in her. He entered her body within seconds, and slow and thorough was out of the question. And she was more than okay with that.

  Later, Mackenzie stirred, drowsy, sated, glowing from hours of Drake’s thorough, adoring attention. And hungry. She wasn’t an exercise expert the way he was, but she was certain they’d burned a few weeks’ worth of calories.

  She looked over at him, inches away, the living room light below still the only one on. The tips of his lips were turned upward in a slight smile as he slept, his hair tousled, his arm hugging the pillow, which gave her a choice view of the bulge of his biceps. He made a pretty picture, and she burned it to her memory. Because she knew…this was still temporary. The long-term prospects between the two of them hadn’t changed.

  When she rolled over to the edge of the bed to get up, he didn’t stir, possibly wiped out from a sex-marathon/jet-lag combo after all. She crept to the bathroom, where she slipped on her short, silky robe and pulled her hair up into a quick messy bun, then went downstairs to the kitchen.

  Making as little noise as possible, she turned the oven on to preheat and took the pizza out of the freezer. As she removed it from the box and unwrapped it, she had a niggling thought that the evening had been a bad idea. Letting Drake in, letting her guard down… She was supposed to be distancing herself from him, and there had been no distance between them whatsoever, physically or figuratively. Zero, zilch, nada. Over the past few hours, she’d opened herself up to him in ways she hadn’t before, held nothing back.

  As she set the pizza on a pan on the counter, waiting for the oven to heat, she made a decision. She wasn’t going to regret tonight. Not a single minute of it. He was here now, and she still had the rest of the night with him if he’d stay, and she might as well enjoy it to the fullest.

  She would put an end to it—to her and Drake’s more-than-friends adventures—soon. Do the smart thing. But not tonight.

  Once she made that conscious decision, she relaxed all the way, determined to make the most of the time she did have with Drake.

  After she put the pizza into the hot oven, she picked up her laptop from the coffee table, set it on the breakfast bar, and powered up to browse through more houses while she waited. If she found any she loved, she’d let Calvin know to add them to the list of showings for Friday.

  It didn’t take long for her to fall through the rabbit hole of houses, clicking on one suggested property after another that popped up on the real estate site. That was how she found the perfect house—an adorable brick home full of exactly her style, with a walkout basement and a bonus room above the garage, surrounded by trees and a park, in a part of town she’d l
ove to live in.

  Naturally, it was close to two times her budget. After spending several minutes soaking up every photo of it, she cursed the website for suggesting a pipe dream to her, then hopped up to stop the beeping of the timer that signaled the pizza was ready.

  Before she had it all the way out of the oven, she heard Drake coming down the stairs and smiled to herself at the cliché of food luring him out of bed.

  He’d put his boxer briefs on but nothing else. Mackenzie eyed him as she straightened and set the steaming-hot pizza on the stove. That man alone had the power to make her forget the hunger in her stomach and instead become aware of a different kind of hunger that had resurged within an instant of laying eyes on him.

  “You’re my dream girl,” he said, grinning as he came up to her in the kitchen and kissed her. “A hot girl with hot pizza. Doesn’t get better than this.”

  “I figured frozen pizza fell into your junk-food category.”

  “Every once in a while, you have to throw the rules out the door and indulge.”

  Didn’t she know it.

  He kissed her again, longer, more intently this time, and she laughed.

  “You’re not distracting me from my much-needed dinner, mister.”

  “That sounds like an intriguing challenge, but luckily for you, I’m so hungry I could chew my arm off.”

  “Don’t do anything to harm that killer body of yours,” she said. She took the pizza cutter out of the drawer and sliced it up, handed him a plate, and helped herself to two heaping slices of meat lovers’. “At least there’s lots of protein, right? You’ve got to fuel up all those muscles.” She eyed his chest and arms appreciatively.

  “Plus carbs for stamina,” he said with a sexy eyebrow lift. He went around to one of the barstools and sat down to dig in. Mackenzie sat next to him and did the same.

  “Houses,” Drake said with his mouth full, pointing at her laptop. He swallowed his food. “So you’re diving in now, huh?”

  “Yeah. At long last. I’m going out with a Realtor on Friday. Things are getting real.”

  “Is this one you’re going to see?”

  The brick house was still on the screen and she sighed with house lust.

  “Sadly, no. It’s basically my dream house, but it’s way over my budget. If I could find something about two-thirds the size and half the money, I’d ask to see it tomorrow.”

  “It’s nice,” he said, clicking through the photos. “Great wooded yard, lots of light inside, and that bonus room would make a good office. The whole house is you.”

  She couldn’t argue with that, but there was no point in drooling over the listing any longer. Once he was through the photos, she reached over and went to the list of houses she’d favorited to show him some realistic contenders.

  The first one was small but had a master bathroom to die for, with an enormous walk-in closet, a claw-foot soaking tub, and classy tile work. The next one was new construction and cute, maybe a little cookie-cutter, but in a neighborhood with good schools—not immediately relevant, but if she wanted to stay put for decades, schools could someday matter. The third had a pool and hot tub in the backyard but the house needed a lot of work. Since it was a lower price point, it could be feasible. She’d have to pick Sierra’s brain once she’d seen it in person.

  Each house on the list had so much potential, at least based on what she saw online. She was optimistic that Calvin would come up with other good possibilities as well.

  As Drake went through each listing, he noticed details she hadn’t. An awkward layout on one, where the master was attached to the kitchen, a fast-food restaurant practically in the backyard of another, a super-steep driveway that would be a challenge in the winter. He also noticed some positives—one had top-of-the-line appliances in the kitchen and another had window seats in all the bedrooms with what they were guessing was storage beneath.

  “You should take me with you on Friday,” he said when they’d devoured all of the pizza.

  With a jolt, Mackenzie slid off the stool, picked up both their plates, and carried them around the counter to the sink, deliberately putting space between them. Deliberately not looking at him while she sorted through that idea.

  No. She should not take him with her on Friday or anytime. Not to look at houses. There was nothing more domestic and future-oriented than looking at houses.

  Attempting to keep it light, she said, “You hardly seem like a real-estate-hunting type.”

  “I’ve never done it before, but I’d do it with you.”

  “I’ve got a guy. Calvin Broderick.”

  “Your Realtor? Guy who’s trying to sell you a six-figure something? You need someone who knows you. A neutral third party who has no stakes. I’ll be your guy.”

  She pivoted away from him, checked to make sure the oven was off, briefly closed her eyes out of his sight. Because…damn. She wished so much that he could be her guy. That he would let himself be her guy. Her life guy, not her house-hunting guy.

  “I’ll be your objective person so when you walk in the door and fall in love with a breakfast nook or a fireplace, you’ll have someone who can look at things without emotion.”

  “Emotion is important when you’re buying a home. It’s got to feel right.”

  “Sure, but so is logic,” he said. “It’s a combination. You’re putting your life savings into this purchase. You should have a second opinion.”

  She knew he was right about that, and she’d even considered seeing if Ezra would be available to fly in to help her out, but that seemed a little ridiculous. The search could take her weeks and dozens of listings before she found the right one. Still…she was supposed to be cutting Drake off. Not inviting him into her next chapter.

  “It’s going to be an all-day kind of thing,” she told him, finally turning to face him as she rinsed the plates off.

  He stood and came around the counter, grabbed a paper towel, and wiped down the stove, where some sauce had dripped. “What time are you going?”

  “Calvin’s setting our first showing for nine.”

  “Where are you meeting him?”

  “At his office.”

  “Text me the address and I’ll meet you there.”

  She shut the water off and studied him, debating internally.

  “Let me help you out, Mackenzie,” he said. He gently pulled her body around so she faced him. He pushed a pesky strand of her hair behind her ear, gazing down at her sincerely. “This is important to you.”

  “Okay,” she said, telling herself it wasn’t because of the way he was looking at her. It was because she did need a second opinion. She did need an objective party. “I’ll send you his address and confirm the time once I hear back from him.” Lifting her chin, she stretched up to him and kissed him. “Thank you.”

  He growled, his serious, helpful tone out the window and sexy Drake back in play as he wound his big arms around her and pulled her into him. She didn’t fight it. She’d already made peace with tonight, all of tonight, and she was set on having him stay until morning.

  By the time Friday came around, she’d have her defenses stronger, make the transition in her head from Drake her lover to Drake her objective third party.

  Piece of cake.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Drake was going to take all kinds of shit for being late, no two ways about it. Downside of working with one’s family, he supposed. They knew all your faults and weaknesses and didn’t hesitate to point them out.

  He gunned the Porsche the second the light turned green, swearing out loud and then laughing at himself at the realization that, for only the second time in his life, he actually cared that he was running late.

  He’d underestimated Friday morning traffic, had thought with a 7:45 a.m. meeting he would be ahead of the rush, but it was 7:46 and he still had a couple of miles to go. It was nothing short of a miracle that no one had texted him yet, wondering where the hell he was and when he was going to show up. The fa
ct that he wasn’t yet officially an NBS employee didn’t make a difference. In his mind, he was all in, and he didn’t want to fuck this up.

  One more week of shifts at the gym and then he’d be full-time at his family’s company. Though he’d been willing to finish out his two weeks of retail shifts in the North Brothers store as well, Mason had intervened and informed the store manager that Drake was transferring to the corporate offices, effective immediately. His CEO brother had then kept him busy anytime he wasn’t at the gym, as the new division was moving forward at a thundering pace. Fine by Drake. He liked to keep busy, and now that he’d taken that first difficult step, he wanted to be in from the ground floor up as the new division was built, literally and figuratively.

  At last, he whipped into the NBS parking lot and took the first space he came to. The lot was less than half-full but that was changing by the second, as employees made their way in for the regular eight-a.m. start of the day. Drake grabbed his iPad—in its new professional leather case—and hurried to the building.

  He took the stairs to the second floor and pushed through the glass NBS door, greeting Prisha, the receptionist, who looked to have just arrived at her desk, as he hurried by. The main conference room was along the back wall, on the other side from Mason’s corner office, so Drake went down the hall to the right of the receptionist.

  As he neared the back hall, his cousin Connor, who was VP of operations, was meandering toward the conference room from the executive offices. Connor was the oldest of their three North cousins at thirty-six. At six feet even, he was short by North standards and had a lanky build. His golden-brown hair was shaved short on the sides and longer on top, styled up and to one side.

  “Morning, Drake. Look at you.”

  Drake did as he said, glanced down at his suit, but was preoccupied. “You’re late too?” And not really in a hurry, it seemed.

  Connor took his phone out of the inside pocket of his suit jacket and clicked it to see the time as they continued toward the conference room. “Nine minutes early. Relax.”